What Changed Your Mind?
by Zenamydog
Summary: Dean changed his mind and killed the demon holding his contract. But, why? Was Sammy now expendable? SEE WARNINGS.


**Title:**What Changed Your Mind?

**Author:** Zenamydog

**Beta:** jdsampson

**Rating:** PG 13.

**Fandom:** Supernatural.

**Pairing/Characters:** Sam/Dean

**Warnings:** Written through slash colored glasses. Spoilers though S3.

**Feedback:** Like… YES PLEASE!

**Disclaimer:** Kripke and Singer own Sam and Dean… Damn it!

**AN:** Sort of random. Sorry about that.

**Summary:** Dean changed his mind and killed the demon holding his contract. But, why? Was Sammy now expendable?

Dean groaned as he got himself onto all fours and then stood.

"Dean? You, okay?" Sam asked urgently.

He'd taken a pretty good beating at the hands of Trazeer and his drones, but over all, he was in pretty good shape.

"Fine, Sammy. Thanks for asking." Dean tried for a smirk as he took a breath to steady himself and then remembered.

_Sammy?_ Something urgent screamed out in Dean's mind. Panic threatened to consume any and all coherency. Sammy went down. Shit. Sammy went down. He saw pure evil take a swipe at his brother and cut into his flesh, like a hot knife through butter.

"I'm okay, Sammy." Dean was starting to flounder a little. He picked up an old scrap of towel laying over one of the wine crates. "What about you?" he asked as he got down on the floor next to his brother.

"Okay I guess," Sam said with a forced smile.

"Yeah, right," Dean said as he pried Sam's fingers away from the wound and lifted his brother's shirt. He needed to see what they were dealing with.

"It's not that deep," Sam protested and moved backwards to sit up against the cellar wall.

"Hey," Dean growled and crawled after him. He shoved the towel into Sam's wound. He made sure that Sam was holding it with good pressure, before he let go.

He stood and paced for a moment before he caught a glimmer of sunlight reflecting off an old, broken saloon mirror.

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"When did you change your mind?" Sam asked as he moved to reposition himself. His fingers sprawled across the deep gash on his upper-torso.

Dean could see the blood trickling through his brother's fingers, having soaked right through the towel. He resisted the urge to move to Sam's side. Instinct told him to aid Sam, do more than what he had already, but… After what he'd seen Sam do tonight… _So cold_. He wasn't afraid of his own brother. Was he?

_Flesh wound._ Dean justified. Sammy's seen a lot worse than this. He unconsciously nodded his head. _Sammy's fine.__He's gonna be fine._

Dean started to look at his options. They were trapped by thousands of pounds of earth and rock, but Dean had seen light and he'd managed to get a signal on his phone. With all the earth-shaking Trazeer had caused and the way the crates had fallen, Dean couldn't help but think about divine intervention and the 'Lady of the Angels' church. Had god really intervened that day and struck that would-be rapist down? Had god stacked the crates, just so, so Dean could climb them and be able to call Bobby?

"Dean?" Sam's voice was dry and edgy.

When Dean saw Sam scrunch his eyes in pain, his resolve not to be on his knees beside his injured brother, faltered.

"Sammy?" Dean knelt down and removed his own shirt. _Damn._ He took away the towel and pressed the fresh cloth into the wound. Dean watched it turn red. _It's only a nick. Why is it bleeding so much?_

Dean stared for a moment when Sam closed his eyes. Sammy was pale and his skin looked clammy. He'd opened his eyes when Dean pressed harder onto the cut. Dean wanted to be gentle. He hoped Sam knew that, but… "Don't worry, Sammy. It's just a gash."

Dean followed Sam's gaze as he looked over Dean's shoulder and towards the torn and broken body of the teenager lying dead in the corner. Trazeer had selected this body for a reason. He was young and obviously athletic. em Football/em Dean mused. The boy had tackled the hell out of him on that first jump. The demon holding Dean's contract had chosen well.

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Dean had done his best at hindering Sam's attempts at finding an answer.

em "If you try and find a way. So help me, god. I'll stop you." /em

Dean knew it took all of Sam's skills to finally trap the crossroad demon boss. He did it alone, without any help, but the problem was, it was only Dean who could kill the son of a bitch.

When the black smoke had dissipated from the lad's body, there had been a single second when Dean's breath hitched and silence hung heavily. He'd killed Trazeer, but would Sam die as a result?

"I didn't die." Sam grinned.

Trust Sammy to state the obvious. A genuine smile crossed Dean's lips before he could stop it. "Thank god for that," was all he could think to say. "So… What changed your mind, Dean? After all the fights we've had over this." Sam shrugged a little. "You rode me so hard on this, Dean. We could have walked away. Did you find a way of not putting me in jeopardy or something?"

Dean flushed at the question, because no, he hadn't found an iron clad guarantee that Sam would live. "Or something," Dean muttered and averted his eyes. "Bobby found a way to bind the deal, but I had to be the one to kill Trazeer," he explained softly. He could feel Sam's eyes on him and he realized that Sam already knew that.

"And if it didn't work?" Sam asked.

"Then I'd go to hell and you'd drop dead," Dean said calmly.

Sam cringed a little as he shifted his weight to stretch his long legs out in front of him.

Dean moved to his side and shifted up beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He wanted touch. He needed to feel his brother's warmth. Besides, Sammy needed the physical support. Right? There were signs of him passing out.

Sam stared until Dean had no choice but to glance up. "So…" Sam had something akin to hurt in his eyes. "You suddenly realized I was expendable after all and decided to take the risk?"

Dean found himself speechless under the weight of the despair in Sam's eyes. All he could do was nod. _God help me, Sammy. Yes._

Sam bobbed his head, almost in unison, a glimmer of understanding and compassion replacing the distress in his eyes. "So what changed your mind?" Sam asked again. "That it was okay… You know… to take that risk?"

"I found out something I already suspected was true." Dean surprised himself with the resolve he had in his voice.

"And what was that?" Sam asked as he tucked his feet under him in preparation for standing. He grunted and used his unaffected shoulder for leverage to slide up the wall.

"Hey," Dean warned as he got off the ground and took a step forward. He looked at the dried blood on Sam's fingers and his shirt had ceased its color change. "You've stopped bleeding, Sam. Don't push it, okay? Bobby should be here soon." Dean did his own impression of Sam's 'puppy dog eyes'. "Please, Sammy, just sit back down until we can patch you up."

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Sam swayed on his feet and then he felt strong hands guiding him back to the floor. He felt sick and, if the truth be known, it wasn't the amount of blood he'd lost that worried him. The burn under the cut was strange. Painful… Yet not?

He smiled up at his brother, who cast worried and protective eyes over him. "Good job at trying to distract me, dude," Sam challenged, but this time with a smile. "What made you change your mind?"

Dean moved back to sit shoulder to shoulder with him. The warmth from his light, but constant touch, welcomed.

"If I die…" Dean started and then made one of his em 'how do I put this' /em faces. "I have to stick around. I have to live, Sammy." He changed tactics. "Because if I don't…"

Sam forgot about the hurt at having been knowingly risked. It was, after all, what he and Dean had been bickering over for more than five months now. Sam argued that he was not valuable in the grand scheme of things. Dean seemed to have known better and put his foot down.

The glow inside Sam's gashed skin tingled and hurt, but the burn somehow seemed to soothe. And then it happened. His tolerance seemed to be ripped from him. "For Christ sake, Dean. Just tell me. If you don't live, then what?"

"If I die your gonna turn evil. Don't ask me how I know that, Sam," Dean ranted suddenly. "I just do. I've gotta stick around to make sure that doesn't happen, okay? Whatever Azazel did to you, he's not winning. You're not going dark side. I'm gonna keep you from trading sides. If I'd failed, then…" Dean's brows furrowed. "At least then, there'd be no way you could lead armies into battle." Confusion played across Sam's face.

Dean grinned. "Cause… well… You'd be dead," he added and took a huge breath.

Armies into battle? "So a win-win situation, then?" Sam couldn't keep the sarcasm completely out of his voice. They had almost come to blows over this, so why now, did he suddenly feel betrayed?

Sam paled a little when he saw Dean's eyes widen. "What is it, Dean?"

Dean's eyes slowly rose to meet his brother's. "I didn't mean to say that, Sam It…" he floundered a little. "It flew out of me involuntary. Like… Like I was commanded to say it."

"Like… Like Andy, you mean?" Sam sat up a little straighter. "Mind control?"

"Yeah…" Dean moved back to sit side on to Sam. "Exactly like that."

A long drawn out moment hung in the air between them and Sam could see the internal battle in Dean's eyes. Fear and love playing across his face transparently.

Sam flinched when he moved into Dean's space. "You have to trust me, Dean. Whatever this is…" Sam raised his hand to touch the skin on Dean's jaw. "I could never hurt you, Dean. You know that, right?"

Dean scooted forward and leaned into the touch. Fear of Sam no longer a factor. "Of course I trust you," he said as he covered Sam's hand with his own. "With my soul."

Sam took a deep breath. "Even if I turn evil?"

"Not gonna happen, Sammy. Not while I'm around."

"And if it does?" Sam all but pouted.

"It's not an option, Sammy, but… If you did…" Dean seemed to let the thoughts sink in. "I'd find a way to bring you back over, I guess." Dean shrugged. "But it's not gonna happen, so…"

Sam smiled. The love he felt for his brother kept him grounded. It's what motivated him and got him to the point of being able to finally help Dean.

_"Nothing I wouldn't do."_

All he had to do now, was learn how to control it.

Dean looked at him with a question on his face. The classic 'we're not finished here' look that Sam knew all too well. When Sam said nothing, Dean sighed and moved to the staircase made of crates to call Bobby again.

Sam smiled as he watched him, glad Dean was safe and that he appeared none the wiser. Sam wasn't like Ava and the others, he was stronger than them. He had to embrace his powers. He had no other choice. He needed to save Dean. He wasn't worried. _Not like the others. Stronger._ It wouldn't engulf him. It wouldn't.

Sam grinned when he felt his eyes, ever so briefly, flicker black.

**The End**


End file.
